Part 17

Sgambati has published but little, probably partly on account of the severe self-criticism that is evident in his work, the result of which is seen in the qualities above mentioned. But this is not by any means to imply that his music is lacking in freshness or force; on the contrary, his best work has, which is not too common, a distinction of its own, and there is great vigor and strength in the pianoforte concerto and the symphony, his two works written in the largest form. As every musician, however, in thinking of Dvořák, Brahms, Tschaïkowsky, St. Saëns, etc., has always unconsciously in his mind certain characteristics that he associates with their music, without which it would not be theirs, so in Sgambati are we attracted by his great polish and refinement, as well as by a certain personal charm of manner that is always present (perhaps that is the Italian side of him).

Of vocal music, there have been published three sets of songs (Op. 1, 2, 19) and a cantata for one voice with orchestral accompaniment; of chamber music, there are two quintets for piano and strings (Op. 4 and 5) and a quartet for strings in the unusual key of D-flat major. Of these last, the first quintet, in F minor, is generally considered the most striking, but although it and its companion and the string quartet have made their way, it is by his pianoforte works that he is best known. They are: a Notturno (Op. 3); a strong and characteristic Prelude and Fugue (Op. 6); two Etudes (Op. 10); the "Fogli volanti" (Op. 12), several of which are peculiarly charming; the well-known and truly original Gavotte (Op. 14); four pieces; "Preludio," "Vecchio Minuetto," "Nenia," "Toccata" (Op. 18); "Three Nocturnes" (Op. 20); Suite (Op. 21); "Pièces Lyriques" (Op. 23), and the Concerto in G minor (Op. 15).

These pianoforte pieces do not cover a great number of pages, but in them we often feel something that is none too common, and that it is to be highly prized: we find a personality. It is easy now-a-days to be personal by being vulgar and obtrusive, but it is not so usual to find that quality combined with the reticence and knowledge that mark the finest work, and it is perhaps Sgambati's best trait that we do find that in his music. Most of the pieces are under the disadvantage of being less easy to play than they sound, and the opposite feature is so much liked by players that it is surprising that they have obtained popularity. The Gavotte is not run in the common mould, which has been so much employed for the turning out of numberless pieces of the old dance forms, but is piquant and interesting, and with its appropriate drone-like Musette, is as well-known as any; the "Fogli Volanti" has made many admirers for its author, while the "Vecchio Minuetto" and the "Toccata" from Op. 18, and the first of the Nocturnes (Op. 20) in especial are much played. The first study of Op. 10, in F-sharp minor, has especial interest to pianists in that a clever application is made in it of the system of pedal notation proposed by Hans Schmitt; in this desire to set down exactly what he wishes to express at the pianoforte, Sgambati exhibits a certain likeness to Sterndale Bennett, and indeed the two are somewhat akin in their musical way of thought.

The pianoforte concerto is written in a large style, especially the first movement, and has several portions that are striking and unusual; it is grateful for the player, and sure of success. The fact that three trombones are in the score would lead one to fear a certain over-doing of effect, but the brass is so judiciously used as to justify its presence; and in the symphony also the orchestration is skilful and well contrasted, good effects being often obtained by the use of but few instruments. The symphony has had varying fortunes, being received with great warmth in Italy and in London, but having the opposite fate when performed in New York; it was produced at a concert in the Quirinal, March 28, 1881, the King and Queen of Italy being in the audience, and the King conferred upon the composer the order of the Crown of Italy upon that occasion.

To sum up the characteristics of Sgambati's work: in him is found all the old respect for form and style that was once supreme, but that now is not so universally accepted; he is not fond of making dabs of contrasting colors and calling the result a picture, but everything with him must be well-drawn, and the values must be right. His melodies are clearly cut, their harmonization interesting, and with all his adherence to the classic models, there is so much individuality that his music is his own. It is interesting to find a leading composer of Italy so distinguished for sobriety and reticence, while for extravagance of expression we look to the new men of Germany, France and Russia. And, as Sgambati is still in the prime of life, with ripened powers, even more is to be hoped and expected from him than in the past.

Here follows a list of his published compositions:

Op. 1. Album of songs. Op. 2. Album of songs. Op. 3. Notturno for piano. Op. 4. Quintet for piano and strings in F minor. Op. 5. Quintet for piano and strings in G minor. Op. 6. Prelude and Fugue for piano in E flat minor. Op. 10. Two Etudes for piano. Op. 12. "Fogli Volanti" (pieces for piano). Op. 14. Gavotte for piano in A flat minor. Op. 15. Concerto for piano and orchestra in G minor. Op. 16. Symphony for orchestra in D major. Op. 17. String quartet in D flat major. Op. 18. Four pieces for piano: Preludio; Vecchio Minuetto; Nenia; Toccata. Op. 19. Songs. Op. 20. Three Nocturnes for piano. Op. 21. Suite for piano. Op. 23. Pièces Lyriques.

A second symphony is written, but not yet published.

GIUSEPPE VERDI

Giuseppe Verdi, the last representative of the long line of Italian opera composers of the old school, was born Oct. 10, 1813, at Roncole, a little group of dwellings about three miles distant from Busseto, and occupied by some two hundred impoverished and ignorant laborers. His origin was very humble, his parents being poor and the keepers of an insignificant inn and also of a small shop where were dispensed sugar, coffee, pipes, tobacco and liquor. Of Verdi's earliest infancy little is known. His surroundings were miserable enough, and the atmosphere in which he lived was not of a nature to foster art aspirations. As a child he was sad and taciturn, and showed no inclination to indulge in those amusements that are so eagerly enjoyed by youngsters generally. He manifested at a tender age that fondness for music which has been so often chronicled in this work of the youth of those who afterwards became famous as composers. His only enthusiasm was when an organ-grinder passed through the village, for then he could not be kept at home, but would follow the ambulant music-maker from place to place. This is almost all that is current regarding his earliest musical taste, and it is by no means an evidence of any abnormal partiality for music, since it is not rare in children to be attracted by street music even when the player is not a pied piper of Hamelin to draw them after him by a magic spell. However, the child Verdi must have borne other testimony to his instinctive love of music, for when we next hear of him it is as the owner of a spinet, which, by the way, is still in the composer's possession. He was then seven years old. That a poor innkeeper should have squeezed from his scanty earnings sufficient to buy his son such an instrument must be received, in absence of other proof, as evidence that his musical gifts were of a precocious order that caused them to be considered worthy encouragement. An old friend of Verdi's father has placed on record the earnestness with which the lad practised on this spinet. We are told that he was at first content with his ability to play the first five notes of the scale, and then busied himself in trying to combine the notes in chords, falling into a rapture of delight when he by chance sounded the major third and the fifth of C. We read, furthermore, that when he could not find the same chord again the next day he lost his temper, and seizing a hammer began to break the spinet to pieces, for which foreshadowing of a certain school of pianoforte playing that has since then come into vogue, he received an exemplary blow on the ear from his angry father. The next we hear of him is as a pupil of one Baistrocchi, the organist of the little church of Roncole, who had been engaged by Verdi's father to give the boy music lessons. At the end of a year the old story so often told of the youth of great artists was repeated. Baistrocchi confessed that the pupil had learned all that the teacher had to impart, and therefore young Verdi's connection with him ceased. As the boy was then only eight years old, the question is rather one regarding the extent of the pedagogue's knowledge than of the pupil's capacity. Be this as it may, two years later Verdi, at the age of ten, replaced Baistrocchi as organist of the church. His salary the first year was about $7.20 of our money. The second year it was increased by eighty cents and consequently amounted to $8.00, or a trifle over two cents a day!--certainly far from munificent. In the mean while Verdi had received no schooling, and his father thought it time to look after the lad's education. A cobbler who lived at Busseto and by name Pugnatta, agreed to give young Verdi board and lodging and to send him to the principal school in the town, in return for six cents a day to be paid by the elder Verdi. Extortionate charges were not the rule in and about the birthplace of the future composer of "Aïda," the "Manzoni Requiem" and "Falstaff." At school the boy studied industriously, and walked the three miles between Busseto and Roncole twice every Sunday and feast-day to play the organ at his church in the latter place. His wretched income was increased annually by some ten or twelve dollars, received from christenings, weddings and funerals; and at the annual harvest festival, when it was customary for the organist of the place to go about from door to door with a sack over his shoulder to make a collection for himself, he added a trifle to his finances. Such experiences were severe for a sensitive boy.

In two years at Busseto, while under the protection of the cobbler, whose lodger and ward he was, Verdi learned to read, write and cipher. About this time he made the acquaintance of a Signor Barezzi, who took a deep interest in him, gave him employment, and aided him in enlarging his musical knowledge. In the house of Barezzi the rehearsals and concerts of the Philharmonic Society of Busseto took place. Here, for the first time, Verdi had an opportunity to study music seriously. He attended all the rehearsals, and seemed so absorbed in his love for the art that Signor Ferdinando Provesi, who was the conductor of the concerts as well as chapel master and organist of the cathedral, took a fancy to him, and under his excellent guidance Verdi was led into a more serious course of study. Under Provesi, who was a good contrapuntist, a composer of numerous operas of which he was the author of both words and music, and who was, in addition, a man of wide reading, Verdi studied until he was sixteen years old. In the mean while he had improved rapidly, and he frequently replaced his master as organist at the cathedral and as conductor of the Philharmonic concerts. He likewise wrote numerous works, which he copied, taught and conducted himself. Nevertheless, as a composer he manifested no very brilliant precocity and no special genius. His talent for music was clearly indicated, but nothing has appeared to show that his early artistic development was akin to that of a Mozart, a Schubert, or a Mendelssohn.

At the age of sixteen it was thought advisable that he should go to Milan in order to study in the conservatory there. His own means did not encourage any hope of realizing this step forward. However, Signor Barezzi came to the front again and induced the Monte di Pietà, an institution with a fund to assist promising young men without means in the study of art or science, to award Verdi six hundred francs a year for two years. To this Barezzi added the funds for music lessons, and for board and lodging in Milan. Under these encouraging conditions Verdi went on his way to Milan, where he arrived in due season, full of hope and enthusiasm; and with this incident ended the least interesting and the most painful period of the young composer's life: not that he did not suffer afterward, for his first experience in Milan was a very discouraging one; but he was never again to know the extreme misery of poverty and obscurity that had colored his life up to that time.

When the young artist presented himself at the Milan conservatory to pass the examination which was to test his fitness for entrance to that institution, he was refused admission because, as was claimed, he gave so little evidence of musical talent. This was a severe blow, and for a moment caused the applicant to doubt his capacity for the art he had adopted through the promptings of his instinct: but he soon recovered from the shock, and on the advice of Signor Alessandro Rolla, conductor of La Scala, offered himself as a pupil to the then celebrated composer Lavigna, who, after due consideration, consented to give him lessons in composition and orchestration; and it was from Lavigna that Verdi received his first valuable and practical instruction in music. Verdi was now eighteen, and for two years he devoted himself to the earnest study of harmony, counterpoint, fugue and composition. In 1833, Provesi, his earlier teacher in Busseto, died, and Verdi fulfilling a promise he had made before leaving for Milan returned to Busseto to take the place of Provesi. He went unwillingly, for he had higher aspirations than to become an organist in a small town; but such were the conditions that were made when his friends there subscribed money for his musical education, and Verdi felt that it would be dishonorable to break his word. It happened, however, that there was another candidate for the place, a certain Giovanni Ferrari, an indifferent organist and a still more indifferent musician, who, having influential friends in the church was warmly supported by them. The result was that Verdi was defeated and his rival elected. Verdi plodded along as best he could, and soon fell in love with the oldest daughter of his patron, Barezzi. The young composer was poor; the father of his beloved was rich: but Barezzi made no opposition to the betrothal of the young people, and in 1836 the lovers were made man and wife. Two years later Verdi again turned his back on Busseto, where he was little appreciated and where an art career was impossible. He went again to Milan with his wife and two children, carrying with him the score of his first opera, "Oberto, Conte di San Bonifacio," in the hope of having it performed. On reaching Milan he found that his former teacher and devoted friend, Lavigna, was dead. He experienced the usual difficulties in placing his earliest opera on the stage. At one moment he was full of hope, and then he was cast down by despair. He was bandied to and fro with his score under his arm, until at last his opera was accepted for La Scala and was put into rehearsal. Then, one of the principal artists was taken suddenly ill, and all chance of a performance vanished. The anxieties, the alternations of feeling he had experienced, caused the young composer to lose heart completely, until one morning he was summoned to the theatre by the _impresario_, who, informing him that having heard Ronconi speak very favorably of "Oberto," he was willing to produce it under certain conditions. These were agreed to eagerly, and on the evening of Nov. 17, 1839, "Oberto" was performed for the first time. The work, which is little else than a reflection of Bellini, was well received and was performed several times. Among the changes he had been called on to make in the score before it was finally accepted by the _impresario_, Signor Bartolomeo Merelli, was the introduction of a quartet which was one of the most successful pieces in the opera. Later, the composer achieved other and still greater successes with opera quartets.

The favor with which "Oberto" had been received induced Merelli to engage Verdi to write three operas, to be played either in Milan or Vienna. Eight months' time was given in which to compose each opera, and the price that Verdi was to receive for each was 4,000 livres ($670.00), the profits of the copyright to be divided between composer and manager. Verdi agreed to everything, and Merelli commissioned the poet Rossi to write a libretto for the composer, "Il Proscritto" being the result. Verdi did not like the book, and had scarcely reconciled himself to set it to music when Merelli suddenly demanded a comic opera from him, whereupon Verdi began to compose "Un Giorno di Regno." Then disaster after disaster crowded on him. His two children died suddenly within a few days of each other, and his wife also died after of inflammation of the brain. Three coffins passed out of his house in three months, and he was left without a family. In the midst of this appalling affliction he was obliged to finish his comic opera. It was completed and was a dead failure, only one performance having been accorded it. What could be expected from a comic opera written under such terribly tragic conditions? Naturally, Verdi lost heart, and for the moment discouraged by the failure of his opera, resolved to compose no more. Merelli remonstrated with him, but Verdi was inexorable; and, therefore, the manager cancelled their contract. Later, Verdi and Merelli met again by chance, and the latter, after vainly urging the composer to resume his art, thrust a libretto on him and hastened away. It was the book of "Nabucco." On reaching home Verdi angrily threw the libretto on his writing-table, determined to have nothing to do with it; but his eye, falling on the open page, was attracted by a certain line which he read, and then he was impelled to read page after page and was much impressed by the poem. The result was, that after many struggles with himself the score was completed, and taken to the now triumphant Merelli. The parts were copied out, and at the end of February, 1842, the first rehearsal took place; and on March 9, twelve days later, the first performance was given. The work was an overwhelming success. With this opera, and when he was twenty-nine years old, Verdi's career as a composer began in earnest.

About one year later, or, to be more exact, on the evening of Feb. 11, 1843, "I Lombardi" was produced, and again success crowned the composer's efforts. It was a great advance on its predecessor in point of style and individuality, and is still performed. Commissions now began to pour in on Verdi, and his name was becoming known beyond the borders of his native land. Managers sought eagerly for scores from him, and the _impresario_ of the Fenice Theatre in Venice obtained his next work, which was "Ernani." It was first performed March 9, 1844, and excited immense enthusiasm; and within the nine months after it appeared it was performed in no less than fifteen opera houses, making later a tour of the world, and remaining for many years one of the most popular of modern operas. In November of the same year "I Due Foscari" was brought out at the Argentina Theatre in Rome, and though it had a fair success, it did not increase Verdi's reputation. He was now writing with great rapidity, and in three months "Giovanna d'Arco" was played at La Scala. It did not become popular and has fallen into oblivion, its overture alone surviving. Six months after "Alzira" was produced at La Scala, and again the composer failed to repeat the triumph he had won in "Ernani." His next opera, "Attila," was written for the Fenice, and on the evening of March 17, 1846, it excited a furore equal to that which attended his "Ernani" at the same house. Then came "Macbeth" one year later, which was a failure owing to the absence of a part for a tenor singer.